


Caecum Irrumabo

by obnoxious_arsehole



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt!Matt, Matt Murdock/Karen Page if you squint, Mild Language, Some hurt/comfort, Temporary Loss of Hearing, Whump, actually could be if you want, first fic dont hurt me, i just thought it was funny, that's crucial, title has nothing to do with the actual contents of the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obnoxious_arsehole/pseuds/obnoxious_arsehole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" Things sounded muffled. Normally, he could hear the sound of his refrigerator humming from his room, but today it was muted. He tested his hearing a little, finding that he could still hear fairly decently from a close distance, but the further things were, the harder it was to use his hearing to figure out where the sound came from.</p>
<p>All in all, this was bad. "</p>
<p>Matt takes a blow to the head resulting in a concussion and loses some of his hearing. Not good.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'm bad at summaries, sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caecum Irrumabo

Climbing through his window was never fun, especially when you felt like you’ve gone through a meat grinder. Matt had dealt with a group of rather difficult russians who were trying to rebuild what they used to have in Hell’s Kitchen, and he felt dead on his feet. The situation had been taken care of, but Matt had taken quite a beating and it became obvious how hurt he was when he unceremoniously dropped through the window and onto his hardwood floor with a groan.

 

Matt could hear his aching bones creak softly over the loud throbbing of his head as he lay on the floor, his harsh breathing wracking his frame. He tried to figure out what injuries he had and was glad to know that none of them would need stitches. Mostly shallow cuts and bruises that would become purple as the week progressed along with other blows that would inevitably come during the week. Matt reached up and slipped off his mask, wincing at movement and rubbing his forehead with callused fingers.

 

His head was pounding. His hair was matted with blood at the back of his head, where a wound there was still bleeding sluggishly. Matt remembers getting hit there with a crowbar and only now that the adrenaline was leaving his system did he start to think that he was probably hit harder than he thought.

 

He collected himself from the ground to take a shower, the hot water relaxing his aching muscles and getting rid of the blood that adorned his skin. All the while, his head began to feel heavy and his thoughts grew muddled. Matt knew that he most likely had a concussion, but he also knew that Claire was out of town and that Foggy had been pulling all nighters recently trying to work out a case for a client. He opted not to call anyone about it and instead set his talking alarm clock to wake him up every now and then, just to be safe.

 

As he lay down on his bed, Matt hoped that there wouldn’t be much fighting to do tomorrow night. A break from running himself ragged would be fantastic. He knew he’d go out either way, even if his confounded head hurt the way it did. With one last groan, he turned over in his sheets and dived into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

His head was worse.

 

It didn’t hurt, which was an absolute blessing, but his thoughts felt even more muddled and it was harder to concentrate on where things were in his home. Not only did his head feel sluggish, but it seemed that his blow to the head may have had some effect on his hearing.

 

Things sounded muffled. Normally, he could hear the sound of his refrigerator humming from his room, but today it was muted. He tested his hearing a little, finding that he could still hear fairly decently from a close distance, but the further things were, the harder it was to use his hearing to figure out where the sound came from.

 

All in all, this was bad.

 

Matt knew that as a blind man, he depended heavily on his hearing. He was used to hearing almost everything, and the amount of silence he was hearing now was almost deafening.

 

He did his best to do his morning routine, although he had to use his fingers to touch walls and other objects to help steer him around, and it was different than what he did to keep up the appearance of being a ‘normal’ blind person. Matt had never felt so utterly blind in his life, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t scare him a bit.

 

He didn’t know how he made it to the office in one piece, but he was glad to be away from the crowded streets and muffled noise. He could faintly hear someone shuffling papers as he walked through the door, and ignored the small spike of panic at not being able to hear how many people were in the room, or whether or not they meant harm.

 

“Hello?” Matt counted the grueling seconds-- two-- before the familiar sound of Foggy’s heavy footsteps graced his ears. Matt never thought the sound of Foggy’s half-a-size-too-big dress shoes on the floor would one day bring a smile to his face.

 

“Hey, Matt. Karen’s out getting us some breakfast,” Foggy paused and let out a soft whistle, “ and you look like shit. Rough night, buddy? Why don’t you take a break or something? I’d be great not having my best friend getting busted up for a change.”

 

Matt let out a breathy laugh,“You should see the other guys, Foggy.” He folded up his cane and went in the direction of his office, hoping to sit down and get started on his work. He didn’t expect the chair that blocked his way to be there-- it shouldn’t have been there, it’s normally not, why is it there?-- and he nearly tripped over himself as he bumped into it, hands fumbling to grab ahold of the offending object.

 

“Christ, Matt! You alright, buddy? Sorry, I should’ve told you that was there. Karen was getting rid of some cobwebs and must’ve forgot to put it back. Wait, why am I telling you that? You should be able to see it, right?” Foggy put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, the other on his forearm and Matt grabbed ahold of it almost greedily. He turned his head towards the sound of Foggy’s voice, but turned too fast and it only made him feel disoriented. He blinked his eyes, trying to prevent the dizzy feeling he was now experiencing from getting worse.

 

“Well, I obviously didn’t see it, now did I?” Matt commented. He could practically feel Foggy’s normal demeanor of sarcasm morph into one of increasing worry.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“My hearing isn’t as good as it normally is. I’m finding it harder to concentrate too, so that’s not helping me right now either.”

 

“You got an ear infection or something? You sick? Is that why you look like shit? Cause I assumed it was because of the whole _vigilante_ thing,” Foggy’s voice went up an octave along with the level of his concern. Matt shook his head--a stupid move, really-- furthering his dizziness and only giving himself what Foggy would describe as ‘the spins’. He almost groans audibly, but managed to bite back the sound and he lowered himself into the chair, and Foggy’s hands leave him, yet he can still feel their warmth. Foggy’s hovering.

 

“You’re not wrong about it being about ‘the vigilante thing’,” Matt sighs in his seat, “I may or may not have gotten hit in the head. Hard. With a crowbar--but that’s a minor detail, Foggy. I didn’t get my skull cracked open, just a minor concussion. Don’t say it, don’t say I should have called you. I wasn’t about to make you miss another night’s rest for me. Like I said, it’s not that bad. It just...has some side effects that I should've expected.”

 

Silence. Suddenly, a hand smacks him on the side of the head, “Matt, you asshole! You should’ve called me anyways.” Foggy paused, then hands were scrambling at his head, namely the spot he had hit, “Shit! Sorry, I’m sorry-- I hit you for being a tool and didn’t realize I was hitting your head-- sorry!” The hands pushed Matt’s glasses askew and although his friend was trying to see if he’d made it worse, Matt didn’t need hands all over him.

 

“Foggy-- _Foggy_! It’s fine, just stop that,” Matt took ahold of his friend’s hands and moved them away from his head, but didn’t let go of them lest they tried to bury back into his hair. Matt took a few breaths to settle himself and push back the small wave of nausea that hit him.

 

Matt brought one of his hands, along with Foggy’s, to his face and pushed his glasses back into place. “Okay, calm down a little. Minor means I’m not dying. I’m fine, just blinder than usual and it would be great if you’d warn me if things are out of place, alright? Can you do that for me, Foggy?”

 

Nothing. “Foggy?”

 

“Sorry, I nodded. You know I’d do anything for you, right? Didn’t even need to ask. It’s common courtesy, I have to help you or else it would wound my conscience. Can’t leave the blind man to fend for himself, y’know? I know you can take care of yourself, but you’re doing a crappy job of it, letting yourself get hit like that. A crowbar?? Are you kidding? And you wonder why I worry so much…” Foggy moved away and Matt let him go. He could hear Foggy murmuring to himself, probably curses, as he went to a different part of the office.

 

“Karen will be back soon, what do you want to blame your new-found-clumsiness on? I don’t think ‘I was fighting bad guys and my head got bashed in with a crowbar’ is going to make her feel better about it.” Foggy was trying to make light of the subject, so Matt humored him.

 

“Bumped my head when I fell down my stairs?”

 

“Nah, it screams ‘I’m a poor blind guy who can’t get around his house.’ Next.”

 

“I stayed up late the last few nights binge-listening to a movie marathon and I'm exhausted?”

 

“Much better. It’s stupid enough to be believable. I know we’re lawyers-- defense attorneys if you want to be precise-- but that doesn’t mean we should be spewing crap out of our mouths. Really, we’re supposed to be the good guys.”

 

Matt chuckled and got out of the chair, hand finding his doorframe just as the sound of a door opening and Karen’s heels notified him of her arrival. The faint smell of baked goods wafted through the air. He smiled at the sound of her soft voice saying good morning and he made his way to greet her, hoping that he wouldn’t come across anymore chairs, if he could help it.  
  
Good thing he had Foggy looking out for him. He didn't know what he'd do without him.

 

* * *

 

He got smacked in the face with a door. It sucked that he couldn’t see it, even more so that he didn’t hear the client coming in nor did he hear the door creak. Matt was standing a little too close to the door and was turning to go into his office when the door swung open and he became acquainted with wood.

 

It was one of the many accidents that happened that day, but it was one of the most embarrassing.

 

He had been blind most of his life and yet he sucked at being a blind person. Yes, he knew how to properly use his cane and read braille and all of that good stuff, but without his heightened senses and with the rest of them muted and dulled, he felt like a newborn fawn learning how to use it’s legs. Perhaps that wasn’t the best comparison, but it worked for him.

 

Foggy thought it was hilarious. At first, he was like a mother hen, but after a few little incidents he went back to being Matt’s best friend and began to joke a bit. The circumstances of his clumsiness weren’t funny, but Matt appreciated the humor much more than a worried Foggy.

 

Karen thought Foggy was being more of a dick than usual, Matt being a klutz gave her all the more reason to help him out, which she said she enjoyed doing. As long as nobody helped him aim into a urinal, Matt was fine with her hovering and Foggy’s attitude.

 

“Matt, you okay?” He lifted his head slowly, having been reading a file in braille and he realized that he had no idea what he had just read.

 

“What?”

 

“Are you feeling okay? You’ve just been sitting there for the past few minutes and you’re not even reading.” Had he really just been sitting? He was sure that he’d been reading, or at least trying to.

 

“Oh. Where’s Foggy?” Matt didn’t hear the familiar drumming of fingers on the table the three of them sat at when working together. He tilted his head in the direction of where Karen was and heard her stretching in her chair, the bones in her back popping.

 

“He left a little bit ago, he was turning in early but said to call him if anything came up. I think he meant that part mainly for you, since he looked a little peeved when he looked at you. Also, you didn’t answer my question.” Karen rustled some papers, most likely putting them back in their respective places.

 

“Understandable. He tends to worry about me. And I’m fine, Karen, just tired. I think I’m going to lay off the tv for a while.” He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. He sighed heavily and removed his glasses, setting them on the table. Normally, he wouldn’t take them off around Karen since most people get turned off by his unfocused eyes. They weren’t strange looking, but some people just found it unnerving, so he tried not to take them off just in case Karen felt the same way. Right now though, his own discomfort made him not care as much and so the glasses came off.   
  


He rubbed at his eyes and then at his temple, trying to will away the groggy, jumbled feeling he had from getting his head used as a gong. His head still felt very muddled and his thoughts slow. It would probably be best if he didn’t go out tonight, not if he couldn’t keep his head on straight. Not thinking quickly and not being able to focus could get him killed, and he wasn’t looking forward to coming to work in a body bag.

 

Matt went to stand up, but miscalculated how close to the table he was and his thighs met the table with a thud.

 

“That’s it, we’re going home. You clearly need some sleep and I need to get you home before you hurt yourself.” Karen’s chair dragged along the floor as she got up, and Matt heard her grab her keys.

 

“Wait, wait, we still have work to do, Karen. We also need to put some of this stuff away and--and what’s this about you taking me home? I can get home fine on my own, you know,” he called after her receding footsteps. He quickly grabbed his glasses and set them back onto his face.

 

“After the day you’ve had? You need a chaperone to keep you from walking into oncoming traffic. I’m also going to make sure that you go to _bed._ If this is how you get when you don’t sleep, then you can kiss late night marathons goodbye. Forget the work, it’ll be here tomorrow. And if I can help it, you’ll be far more lucid when you get here.” A hand tugged at his elbow and he begrudgingly let her steer him towards the door and his cane was pushed into his hand.

 

“Karen, you don’t have to take me home. You should get yourself home or go out with friends. You shouldn’t have to spend the night escorting me to my place.” Matt was being sincere. Karen seemed to spend all of her time here at work or running an errand for them. Matt didn’t even know when she had the time to treat herself or see other people. He knew that him and Foggy weren’t always the best company, and he didn’t want her to get sick of doing this stuff day after day. He hoped she didn’t get sick of them.

 

“I’m taking you home because I want to. I remember a time when you helped me out, and I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you two. Let me return the favor a little, yeah?” Karen locked up and soon they were on their way out of the building and onto the street, her arm intertwined with the arm not currently using his cane. He didn’t mention that she’d been returning the favor simply by working with them.

 

“You know I consider you and Foggy to be my closest friends, right? I don’t tell you guys that often enough, but considering what we’ve been through, it kind of goes without saying. Not many people can say that they work with good friends, but I can. I enjoy being around you guys, so don’t start trying to shoo me away because you think you aren’t good enough friends. Are we good? Alright. Careful, the sidewalk gets pretty uneven up ahead.”

 

Matt smiled to himself as Karen changed the topic and began to talk about their surroundings. It gave him some comfort, hearing the light, musical tone of her voice over the muffled sounds of late night traffic. Although his day had been filled with abnormal silence, his friends had unknowingly filled the emptiness with themselves, with their laughter and with their presence. If Matt had to spend another day this vulnerable without his friends, he’d lose his mind to paranoia.

 

He could feel last nights activities wearing him down, and he was glad that Karen had suggested--forced--him to leave the office. He might as well be running on fumes at this point and it felt true in the way his tired limbs began to protest against movement.

 

Matt chatted with Karen mindlessly until they stood in front of his apartment door. He fumbled with his keys and jiggled them into the lock. He invited Karen inside for a quick drink and she complied.

 

A beer or two later, the camaraderie in the air shifted into a tense silence, which Matt could sense was coming from Karen.

 

“You alright?”

 

A tired sigh. “Matt…” Hesitation. He held his breath as the seconds ticked by. “Did you really spend the night up just for a few movies?” Matt opened his mouth to respond, but Karen interrupted, “Please don’t lie to me. Foggy’s an awful liar and I’d really appreciate if you didn’t lie to me too.”

 

Matt clamped his mouth shut. He frowned and sucked his lower lip into his mouth, biting it lightly as he thought of what to say. His silence was enough of an answer to Karen, though, and he heard her sigh heavily.

 

“Kind of figured. You’re the type of person who uses their time wisely. What were you doing that’s gotten you so off balance today?”

 

“...Okay, we lied to you and I’m sorry. But I _cant_... I can’t tell you-”

 

“Can’t tell me what you were up to? Matt, please. Every other day you come to work looking awful and I want to know if there’s anything I can do to help you--”

 

“No, Karen. You can help me by not getting involved and staying far away from this topic.”

 

“What are you doing? Are you getting yourself into something dangerous? Matt, whatever it is, you can tell me. I can't help you if you don't let me. Matt," shuffling filled his ears and he almost flinched back from the soft hands that delicately framed his face, "I can see that you're hurting. I see it all the time and I hate it. Sometimes you come in with bruises and I know that you didn't get them from walking into a wall or whatever your excuse is that day. Matt, I'm scared that you'll come in with something worse than a few bruises. I don't want to lose any more of my friends," her voice cracked and it tore him up inside.

 

Matt wanted to tell her. He really did. He hated the lying and the sneaking around--but he was scared too. He didn't want anything bad to happen to her should anyone find out who he was. He didn't want her to lay awake in bed at night wondering whether or not he was dying in some alley. He knew Foggy did that. He didn't want that for her. He didn't want her to worry.

 

He would tell her. Not tonight, but soon, even if he didn't think it was a good idea. She was one of his closest friends, he owed her that much. He'd much rather tell her himself than have her stumble upon it like Foggy had.

 

Matt reached out to touch Karen's face, finding that she must have brought her chair close to sit in front of him. His chest ached when his hand brushed across a tear-track.

 

"I'm sorry. I don't want you to be scared, Karen. God, I'm sorry," he whispered. He pulled her forward into an embrace and she let herself be pulled. Her face rested in the crook of his neck and he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not going anywhere, okay? I promise. I've been a little busy lately with... personal matters, and I didn't want to get you or Foggy involved. The only reason Foggy knows what's going on is because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time." Or right, considering Foggy had gotten him help before all hell broke loose.

 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I should have, I know that now. If I had known that it was affecting you like this I'd have told you. I'll explain everything sometime soon, I promise. But until then, you'll have to hang in there and trust me. Trust me when I say I'll come to work everyday, although sometimes I won't be in perfect shape," Matt rubbed at her back before letting her go and pushing her forward gently, as though to see her face, "Can you do that for me, Karen?"

 

Karen’s breath came out shaky and he heard a sniffle. “You have to tell me yes or no, I can’t tell--”

 

“I nodded, Matt, sorry.” He heard her wipe her face, and he felt like an idiot for making Karen cry. “I don’t like whatever you’re doing that’s getting you hurt, but I do trust you. Just...don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Matt gave a breathy laugh and patted her arm a little.

 

“You alright? Also, you’ve been here a while, it might be late. If you want, you can spend the night if you don’t feel like going home.”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Another quick sniffle and her chair scraped lightly on the floor as she stood, “I should get going, we’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow and I’m not looking forward to doing them hungover. Thanks for the beer.” She was rushing to get her stuff, and Matt wondered if it was really because it was late. Perhaps she felt embarrassed and wanted out.

 

He heard her make her way to the front door and he listened for the sound of it closing, but instead he heard the click of her heels coming back fast in his direction. Suddenly, arms enclosed him in a tight embrace that squeezed some of his breath out. Karen said nothing, but Matt didn’t need her to. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged back.

 

_Stay safe. Don’t get hurt. I’m here._

  
  
She let go and softly said, “Goodnight,” and then she was gone.

  
As Matt went to bed, he noticed that he could faintly hear his refrigerator humming from his room and a smile broke out on his face. His bad hearing wouldn’t last forever. Neither would his cuts or bruises. He may get new ones, but over time, those too would fade away.

  
It helped knowing that he’d have his friends by his side to remind him that his aches wouldn’t be forever. The pain he’d feel wouldn’t last forever, but their friendship would.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried.  
> Anyways, here's this little lovely thing. There's not much fanfics of this so I had to contribute. Thanks so much for reading this <3 Feedback would be awesome btw


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